Thursday, January 27, 2005

Good day to you all.

I would like to speak to you all about the grandeur of Swimming Pools, and by consequence, Hot Tubs, Slides and Diving Tanks, as well as sexy lifeguards of the male orientation...of which have the pleasure of being deeply in love with females because, yes, you guessed it, they are hot lifeguards. Now, because of my deeply toned skill for researching and thus otherwise, I have acquired various knowledge of swimming pools around central calgary.

The Up-sides
- They are marvelous to be in. Water soothes the soul
- You can view boys in swim trunks and 'oo' and 'aah' in certain drowning disbelief
- It makes your fingers and toes all wrinkly and , boy, what a party trick that is, eh?
- Slides are damned fun. Especially because you are half-naked and in a tube. Yes...I went there.
- Peace and quiet when you sink underwater...and the sounds of nothing...except weird clanking noises and the 'jaws' theme song
- Having oodles of fun with friends...and saying the word 'oodles' with glee and certain undenying satisfaction

The Down-sides
- That strange yellow-tinge that all swimming pools seem to have but no one wants to point out the truth except for my dear friend Elly, which then sets me off in a series of scrunched up faces and 'eeeewwwwws'
- Getting Waterlogged...this is the process of being so dripping with water that you are, in fact, the same mass as a log suspended in a lake.
- Falling none-so-gracefully off the diving board. Ker-splat!
- 'ooo'-ing and 'aah'-ing at hot guys, only to have them make out with barely-there-bikini-clad-tart-girls in the corner.
- Bloodshot eyes make you feel very vampire-ish...not to mention the fact that you have the strong urge to devour neck-blood.
- Doggy-paddling. Explanation upon observation.
- and countless others that go on the list.

Nevertheless, I continue to go swimming, and humiliate myself infront of others, to my own personal self-satisfaction and the laughter which it brings in the echoing silences of the run-on sentence. To all of you who think that I am unobserved. Thank you for observing this. Adieu and good bye. Oh, and I would also like to mention the strange way that the aforementioned topics end...Tubs..Tanks...Pools.. It's like they are trying to tell us something.
COMMENTS are accepted by donation only. Thank you and (comment, damn you!) have a nice day.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

I miss you

If only the stars could write my name in the sky for you to see.

Monday, January 24, 2005


Dear children of Yonder,

Please go to this site of great art of which I made and find the hidden meaning of what is truly and deeply 'happy.'

Thanks guys.

And please please please make your own. They're lots of fun.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

This Antique World

I saw you this day, back in 1972.
Your face wasn't half so serious and you always wore that same pair of jeans.
The sky was actually clear. Do you remember those days?
And your skin would get goosebumps when I touched it, because you said I was so cold; too cold.
But the streets would twist and turn to encapture out feet and propel us further. We would dance on rooftops and stargaze in each other's eyes.
We would tell each other that we were free. That we would never be soldiers, except of our own fate. We would sing sticky sweet lullabies.
33 years have passed.
Your hair has grown thin and you shake your head when I try to make you smile.
The sky is not sky anymore, and simply smog.
You don't let me touch you because you're afraid I'll still be cold; too cold.
We never go out on the streets anymore. They are darkened and filled with cracks to break us. There are no more rooftops to dance on, and our feet are too weary. Our eyes have lost their stardust.
We don't talk of freedom anymore. Not with the bombs and the cradles of war. Our voices are hoarse from choking down smoke.
The only soldiers we see anymore are the ones that are shown to us on TV. The ones overseas that don't make us cry because we, bringing up the new generation, are too desensitized. The blood no longer makes us want to hold on to that little bit of hope, now tattered and buried with the thousands - millions - of bodies of the dead.
Now I look up into the night sky and I can't seem to find any stars.
Even they have lost their luster.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Contemplating Forever

My Mother is unemployed and going on a cruise.
I feel the need to do something crazy while she is gone.
I am too reserved.
I have too much guilt.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Our Wedding Day

I saw you on our wedding day.
You were dressed in white.
A casual smile drifted on and off your face.
You were beautiful.
And as I sat, and watched you dance on that floor,
I released all worries. I forgot all fears.
I saw you on our wedding day.
You had flowers tucked behind your ears.
You gave me that trade-marked wink,
and whispered in my ear.
I can't forget that image of you, smiling, and twirling in a cloud of white.
It's the photograph I keep in my mind,
when I need you most.
They didn't see you as I did,
when they found you in the rafters.
They saw the dress of white,
as I did, for the first time.
They saw you with the flowers, which had fallen out of your hair.
They saw you with a necklace made of rope, circled around your neck.
And I saw you, for the first time.
And you were real.
I still have your ring.
It's hidden, in a secret garden; in a secret world.
And I know you're waiting,
for that perfect day,
when I can be with you and we can say our vows.
I know you're waiting to catch a glimpse of me in my best.
I know I saw you, my bride, even when all the people were leaving,
and giving their sympathy and sorrow.
You were by my side, as always,
apologizing for the inconvienence,
of your untimely death.
And in your white dress,
you are waiting.
And so, in my best suit,
I will arrive.
Don't worry, sweet wife-to-be,
I will bring you the details that go along,
so we can finally have our wedding.
I will bring the minister, the best man, and the bride's maids.
I will bring the flower girls, the ring bearer, and the mother-in-laws.
I will bring the families, which sought to unite us.
And, then, we can be married,
you and I.
I see you now, my last vision, as I check the bullets.
I see your smile, as I place in the last one, saved for me.
I see you dance, and I walk out the door.
Wait just one more hour.
I never forgot that this was our wedding day, only years before.
I never forgot the way you smiled, as you hung in the air.
I'll never forget the sound the gun made when I pulled the final trigger and how the last petals fell, from the flowers you used to wear, up in your hair.


I have no creative outlet, and yet, I feel a need to write..
Today is my depressed day.
Did you notice?
One person did.
I am so ridiculously sick of being sick..(mentally, not physically)
And, damn, no one ever knows my name.
I want to be heard,
so I squeak.
I want to die,
so I dream.
I want you to be with me,
so I break my heart, myself.
I always wanted to be like this,
or was it that you lied?
Just stop trying.
Or stop ignoring me.
I think you need to understand.
That I think so much of you,
do so much for you.
What do I get in return?
I just thought I'd breathe.
But damn that,
because you're polluting the system,
and forcing feathers down my throat.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005


Cinderella had a fairy godmother.
She wore a dress and had slippers made of glass.
She smiled through her tears.
She was not so real.
Sleeping Beauty had a curse,
put upon her when she was young.
She had a kingdom,
that slept for her; wasted their years for her.
There was a reason she was called a Beauty.
And so, she slept.
She was not so real.
Belle loved a Beast.
She was called Beauty, to match his gruesomeness
She saw a rose that counted time,
and found herself mesmerized by kitchen-counter magic.
She was not so real.
Ariel lived under the sea,
wishing for something more.
And once she found her wish,
she danced into the sunset,
the colours mixing into her smile.
She was not so real.
I know a girl,
who is a beauty,
a princess,
and gets her way.
I've known them all, for all my life,
and I watch in silent agony,
and, sometimes, delight.
I watch the knives dig farther into their backs,
and still they smile and smile and smile.
So inconsequential and yet they weave webs of pure distaste.
I know a girl who is not so real.
I know them all.
It's the boys who play the puppet-masters.
It's the men who seal the envelopes and send away truth, to be replaced with bull.
But who can blame the woman for wanting more.
Beauty, beauty, be mine.
Where's the prince who conquers all?
Honey, he's not here.
I wish this could be real.
Love and love and hate infects.
I never saw the truth.
I knew a girl who smiled at simple things,
and used to laugh out loud.
She is not so real,
in this game.

Tuesday, January 11, 2005

Hello, I am in need of a vent...a proper vent is one that is functions well with anger..

I guess, I am the epitome of emo...yup..I suppose so. I am the fad that they love to hate. Ha. Stupid High School Kids...I hope most of the mean kids get a job as a janitor one day,...or end up selling their bodies for money...and having no souls...Ass-holes...

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Someone buy me Romeo and Juliet....I didn't get that for christmas...and I put it on my list...and I didn't get the blur cd...but I'm going to buy that one with my gift certificate (love you breanna) . So, yup...someone buy me that movie! Go! Now! *sigh*...

Saturday, January 01, 2005

New Years and all the things it brings...

I vow to not have a single new years resolution this year. That is my vow and it is solemn.
Why do I do this?
Take for instance, if I vowed to have a boyfriend. This would simply result in my hanging my head and wishing desperately for a boyfriend. Thus, I do not wish it nor not wish it, so that I will have no certain expectations.
Or, if one of my resolutions was to be more fit. Well, what if I am already fit and going to do more exercise just crams up my schedule and makes me more stressed, making me eat more, thus making me unfit?
No. I don't believe that would do at all. I think spontaneity is a thing too unused in our day and age; to frowned upon in our scheduled lives. And I think we need more of it.
So, dearest year of 2005 in which presents Breanna's article in the paper last year about nostradameous (or however his name is spelled) and the downfall of the human kind, I say let what may enter itself upon our world, be welcomed into this existance as a realization of what we really have achieved; what the world has really done to itself. It's own self-destruction. And perhaps, we will all learn how to be sane, once more.